Second Chance
by Crystal di Angelo
Summary: A cowritten story between Elaine Weasley and I. Fred Weasley is given a second chance during the battle of Hogwarts, but a deal is also made. He will have to go into another reality and help a very confused individual. Who is also known as...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The following story is a joint effort between myself, Elaine Weasley, and Crystal di Angelo. I really hope you like it! I am a huge fan of both the Avengers and Harry Potter, so I hope I do well with my part in the writing. I will be writing the first ch. and Crystal di Angelo will write the second ch. and so on. Please let us know how you like it!  
I have only read the book once, and I do not have it at hand, so the beginning of this will not follow the book word for word. I am just trying to remember how it went!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Avengers. Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and Stan Lee do.

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Chapter One

It had all started out with a joke. Not just any joke, but a joke by one Percy Weasley. Fred was utterly surprised and happy. Which was quite a feat given that he and his brother were in the middle of a duel during a huge battle. That in itself wasw enough to make Fred laugh. The fact that his uptight, rule following older brother, was making a real joke, in the middle of a serious decide-the-fate-of-the-world battle.

"Oh, hello Minister!" Percy said, blocking a spell that was thrown his way." I don't suppose you got the memo." He dodged another curse."I'm-" he cast a hex "-resigning!" And with a flourish of his wand, the Minister of Magic was flung across the hall and knocked unconcious.

Fred looked at his brother in disbelief. "Did you just make a joke, Perce?" The grin on his face was huge. "I haven't heard you make a joke since-"

And that was when it all went wrong. On moment Fred was exclaiming about Percy's amazing joke, and the next he was in a world of pain.

Fred didn't understand what happened. What had he been doing? Oh, right...he had been fighting. Percy of all people had made him laugh. And then, there had been an explosion. Oh, the wall. That was what had happened. The wall had blown up, and had fallen on top of him. That's why he hurt so much. He felt like he was dying. In fact, he knew he was dying. He didn't know how he knew, because he had never died before. Ugh, why was it so hard to think?

It was weird. of all the things he could be thinking right now, it was the fact that it was a really dumb way to die. Really? The biggest battle ever, and he died by falling wall. It was pathetic.

He thought he heard somone yell his name. He tried to answer, but he was just too weak to do anything. He couldn't see anything, and there was an awful ringing in his ears. He wanted so badly to tell whoever it was calling to him, that he was fine. But he knew it wasn't.

His last thought before the darkness consumed him, was "I'm sorry Georgie."

* * *

Fred wasn't sure what to think when he woke up. For one thing, he didn't hurt anymore. For another, it was foggy. Not the wet fog you could feel, but a bright white fog that just hung there. He blinked, wondering if he was in heaven. After all, he had died, right?

Well, if this was heaven then, he was going to explore and see what he was going to have to work with for the rest of eternity.

He stood up, still surprised at the fact that he didn't hurt anymore. He looked around, and found the strange fog lifting. He could see things now. He blinked in confusion. Was this...King's Cross Station? Nah. Way too clean. But it was without a doubt a train station. But everything was white. Way too white. He mentally started to make a list of things he would have to do to improve his new home, if this was indeed heaven, and he was going to be here forever. Color. The place definitely needed color. And it was too quiet. Maybe some music?

He started to walk around, wondering, if this was heaven, where was everyone else?

Fred started, and whipped around. His jaw dropped, as he realized who was standing behind him.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he squeeked. Okay, he was at least dead, because last time he checked, Dumbledore had been dead for about a year.

"Yes my boy." The old man smiled, and Fred noticed the familiar twinkle in his eye. He found himself smiling back.

"You probably have some questions." Dumbledore said, moving to sit down on a bench. Fred hesitated, and then sat down as well.

"Well, yes, I suppose. Am I dead?" It was a stupid question, he knew, but for some reason he felt he had to clarify.

Dumbledore sighed, looking off into the distance, waiting a moment before answering. "Do you know where you are?"

Fred gave the strangely clean train station a quick look, and said, "It looks like King's Cross." He stopped, not sure how to continue.

"Indeed. Normallly, you would wait here, for a train. And then that train would take you on."

"On? You mean like, to heaven?" Fred questioned.

"Something like that." Dumbledore answered, but then the rest of what he had said registered.

"Wait, what do you mean, by 'Normally'?" This was starting to confuse Fred.

Dumbledore gave a small sigh. "I'm afraid that your case is a bit different. You see, there is someone who would like to talk to you."

Fred's brow wrinkled in confusion. His was a different case? How could it be different? Didn't a person just die?

Dumbledore looked over Fred's shoulder, and Fred turned to see what it was that had caught his attention. His eyes bugged out, as he saw three beautiful women standing not five feet from the bench he sat on. How had he not heard them? But no. That wasn't what was currently on his mind. The fact that they were drop dead beautiful was what was on his mind.

"Uhh..." he managed to get out, immediately feeling mortified. He could feel the heat rising on his face, and he almost looked away, but something kept him from doing so.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and rose from the bench. "I'm afraid my time with you is rather abrupt. I couldn't tell you much, and for that I am sorry. But rest assured, everything you wish to know will be explained. Just remember Fred, to be a Gryffindor. Be brave."

"Wait, what? Professor, where are you going?" Fred felt panic rise in his chest, and he started to rise, to follow the old wizard, but a voice from behind stopped him.

"Fear not, Fred Weasley. He has other business to attend to. Someone else who has a, shall we say, 'different case'." Fred jerked his attention back to the three women, and realized the one in the middle was who had spoken. The brunette.  
"Who, what?" Fred stammered, unable to get a coherent thought out.

The middle woman spoke again. "My name is Vervandi. I do not know if you have heard of me in your world, but I am one of the three Fates, also known as the Norns. The other two, are my sisters," here Vervandi gestered first to the blond on her right," Urdr," and then the one on her left, the black haired one, "Skuld."

"Uh, well, I think I may have heard about you, somewhere. I thought you were part of Norse Mythology." Fred wasn't sure. He didn't remember where he had dug up that information.

"Indeed. Usually, we wouldn't do this, but myself, and my sister's, have decided to change your fate." Vervandi paused, as if waiting for Fred to say something, but Fred wasn't sure what to say.

Vervandi sighed. "Let me first explain to you. Do you understand the concept of different realities?" At Fred's unsure look, she continued. "Say, one day, you decide to go to the park. And while you're there, you happen to meet a girl that is visiting from another country. You strike up a conversation, and exchange contact information. Then, you get to know this girl better, you visit each other often, and eventually, you marry. Then you have, say, four children. Mayby one of them becomes a brilliant scientist, who invents a cure for cancer." Noticing the questioning look on Fred's face, Vervandi quickly said," It's a muggle disease. But then you think back. What would have happened if you hadn't gone to the park that day? You would never have met that girl. You would have stayed a bachelor, and never had any children. And the cure for cancer would have to wait to be invented by someone else. What I have just described to you, is an example of two different realities. They may both exist, but in two different dimensions. Does this make sense?"

Fred wasn't sure what this had to do with him, but he got the gist of what was being said, so he nodded.

"There is a reality, one that my sisters and I frequent more than any other. It is different from where you are from, in that, there is not a community of magic users. There are a few people who may practice it, but nothing near what your home is like."

Fred nodded again, trying to puzzle through what was going on.

"My sister, Skuld," Vervandi gestured to the black haired woman," has forseen a difficult future for this one reality. One that could be better. There is someone, a magic user somewhat like yourself, that will be greatly misunderstood, and put through things he shouldn't have to go through. He has already been through much." Here, Vervandi got a pained, sad look on her face. But she quickly regained her composure and continued. " We, my sisters and I, have decided to try to change things. You, Fred Weasley, are still young, and of a good heart. You are brave and courageous, and still have so much to offer." A small smile graced her features as she said," And yes, dying by falling wall is rather pathetic. So, we want you to go to this reality and help."

Fred blinked. "Come again?"

"We are intervening. We were owed a favor from Death, and he has allowed us to spare you. You are being given a second chance."

Fred was gaping, his brain trying to process and work through everything that was being said. "Wh-what? You mean I'm not gonna die? But then why can't I go home? Back to my family? My brother, George, he's my twin. I can't leave him!"

"You did die, in your former reality. For all intents and purposes, you cannot go back there. Your family must move on. This was part of our deal with Death. You still die in your reality, but you will be alive in another."

Fred took a deep breath, shocked by what was happening. " I don't suppose I even have a say in this. I mean, what if I don't want to do it?"

Here Vervandi got a look on her face that he had seen on his mother's face far too often, which said, "you are going to listen young man whether you like it or not!" and he choked off any other objections he may have had. His head was swirling with everything they had said, and he had so much to ask, but the three women started to back up.

"Wait!" he finally called. "What do I do?"

"Do not worry, everything will go fine. Just follow your feet." And with one last look, they faded into the mist, and Fred's world faded to black.

* * *

Phil Coulson already had a headache, and he didn't need any more things to worry about at the moment, but when the alarm went off, he knew it couldn't be ignored.

"What have we got?" he asked the agent working at the security station.

"There was just a massive energy surge to the north of the compound. It lasted only three seconds, and it now gone, but it made our sensors go haywire."

Phil immediately thought of the thunder god, Thor, and asked, " Is it anything from the tesseract, or does it match any other energy readings like the ones we recorded in New Mexico?"

The agent quickly accessed the necessary data, and shook his head. "It was a little like the readings from New Mexico, but it was a lot more powereful."

Phil paused a second, thinking. He didn't want to take any chances, and thought there didn't seem to be a threat at the moment, he wanted to be careful. "Get me Agent Barton."  
*Space*

Clint groaned when he got the call from Coulson. He had just finished playing babysitter for Selvig, and had looked forward to taking a nap before the scientist decided to have another go. But he quickly squashed any annoyed feelings, and immediately went into agent mode. In a matter of minutes, he had a team put together and they were heading to the source of the disturbance. The last time he was investigating weird readings, he got to watch some serious fighting by a supposedly god of thunder. He wondered if things would be as eventful this time.

He had only his hand gun, and only briefly considered going back for his bow, but decided against it. He held his hand up to stop the other agents, who had created a perimeter around the area in question. It was raining slightly, and Clint couldn't see as well as he could have otherwise. That, and the fact that it was dark out, were both rather annoying.

"Cover me," he spoke into his comm, and he slowly made his way forward. Watching intently for any sign of trouble, he was totally unprepared for what he did find. Not fifteen feet in, he almost stepped on it. A person. Clint was rather embarrassed that he jumped and almost yelped. But his training kicked in, and once he made sure that there was no one else there, he quickly bent down and felt for a pulse. Steady, if a bit fast. Clint could see no visible injuries. He sighed. "So much for that nap."

"Agent Barton repoｒting," he said into the comm as he stood back up.

"Go ahead," was Coulson's reply.

Clint took another look at the red headed young man at his feet, and said, "We have a situation."

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There is chapter one! Hope you all liked it! Did any of you catch my Knight's Tale quote?


	2. Chapter 2

Guest review response from Elaine Weasley:

_**Midnight: Elaine Weasley here! Thank you for your review! As far as you having read worse, I suppose I'm glad that my writing wasn't the worst you've read;-) Hope you enjoy the chapters to come!**_

_**Okay, to those who read the first chapter, you might guess that I'm Crystal di Angelo. Since the last chapter wasn't mine, I will not be responding to the reviews. Elaine Weasley will, however, through private messages. As for guest reviews, they will be posted here.**_

_Second Chance_

_Chapter Two_

"I don't care if this boy/teen/mutant/whatever the heck he is possesses feelings. I want answers, right now! Interrogate him the moment he awakes. Run tests on that bloody stick he was holding. Analyze his clothes. Really, why are those clothes still in fashion anyway?" Director Fury barked orders at his agents. He was seriously stressed out now. How the bloody hell could a guy just appear out of thin air and pop onto Earth again? _Oh, hello, say hi! I love wasting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s manpower, so I distract all of you with a bizarre appearance! _One magic wielding villain was enough. Nick Fury did _not_ need another one to complicate his day. And there was always the possibility of the boy working together with Loki.

Agent Clinton Barton cautiously slipped the stick out of the boy's death grasp. What could the thin piece of carefully whittled stick mean, to be treasured so by the unknown boy?

He evaluated it with a quick glance before dropping it into a plastic bag. It looked as if it had a pine cone handle, though the wood was smooth and the rings blurred that Clint couldn't specify the type of wood. It was about 14 inches long, just a little shorter than his arrows.

Agent Phil Coulson was busy snapping photos of the boy, keeping them for possible future reference. Agent Maria Hill was reporting to the Council in place of her superior. Clint didn't envy her job, not one bit.

As for Director Nicholas 'Nick' Fury himself…

He was nursing a large migraine. Fury's expression made Clint reconsider his ambition to become the commander.

Agent Natasha Romanova was preparing the shock equipment to wake the prisoner up. She was the best in that field, and Clint be damned if the boy didn't wake up in three minutes after Natasha's treatments.

The rarely seen peaceful night at S.H.I.E.L.D. was gone.

_Goodbye, rest._ Clint thought mournfully.

_**Line break**_

Lots of complaints, shouts, grunts and commands later.

The scanners were up and running, the shock equipment ready to function at the press of a button. The boy was located in the best position possible, secured to his place with all kinds of binders. Even slightly scary portable rope tasers were wrapped around his hands. If he moved one finger out of S.H.I.E.L.D. base, he would immediately be tasered with at least a hundred volts of electricity.

Natasha pressed the button.

Everything else happened in a matter of seconds. The boy shot upright, some kind of energy wave spreading out from him, cutting through the taser ropes and the various chains holding him down. Eyes wild, the boy dove for the door as Clint grabbed his bow and took aim. The boy dashed down the corridor, taking S.H.I.E.L.D. agents by surprise and passing them, until one agent saw him coming from a distance and landed a kick on him, but the boy was panicking, and let loose another similar energy wave. The agent dropped dead instantly.

The boy paused, staring wide-eyed at the dead agent. Clint noted the brief flash of fear in his eyes, then the boy was running again, determined to get out of here.

Clint didn't follow the boy. Instead, he took a shortcut. If the boy managed to get out of the building, judging from the direction he was headed in, there was only one exit for him. And Clint intended to get there before him.

Just as he skidded to a stop in front of the exit, he found Natasha already waiting there. He barely had time to make eye contact with her before he heard Director Fury's furious roar.

"Bad news." Natasha murmured. "I'll check it out. Keep the exit guarded."

She slipped into the shadows lithely, like a cat.

Clint waited. And waited. An agent came by to inform him that he was on night duty for guarding the door, since the red-headed boy hadn't exited the building yet, therefore he must be still within the grounds.

Doctors and scientists hurried by, conversing in hushed whispers about who a certain Doctor Harrison was doomed.

The very next day, a sleep deprived Nick Fury assembled the Avengers. Well, the potential candidates anyway.

_**Line break**_

"Hypothetically speaking… People could move from place to place in science fiction right. So this boy," Tony Stark tapped the photo of the freckled, red headed boy. "May be a mutant of some sort that can teleport." This photo was taken by Agent Coulson, and the boy was smiling even when unconscious. But Director Fury definitely wasn't.

"Tell me one more time, Stark, why can't you just design the cuffs out of vibranium or something?" He fumed. "Now that damned threat could be anywhere! In places that S.H.I.E.L.D. has no influence, no satellites to pick up abnormal energy readings. He could be causing a massacre in Africa right now and no one would be able to stop him!"

"Listen, Nicky, magic is a whole new field of science for me." Tony growled, wagging an accusing finger at Fury. "I specialize in mechanics. Genius I may be, thank you very much for the compliment, but we weren't expecting a whole new wave of freaky magic users! Heck, maybe his magic could even cut through vibranium and that would just be a waste of good metal!"

Steve looked troubled and confused as he studied the boy's peaceful face and mischievous smile. "He's just a child. Shouldn't we try to talk to him before starting all the…interrogation tactics?"

"He killed. That alone is enough to give us a legal reason to gun him down." Agent Hill explained.

"Sadly enough, I'll have to side with Capsicle on this one." Tony announced. "Don't look at me like that. Despite popular belief, I _do_ have a heart. I'll give you a talk on the greatness of my heart later, but the point is, if you provoke a neutral party, you'll have a hostile party on your hands in a millisecond."

"He started it by appearing unannounced within three miles of our compound using unidentified transport." Agent Coulson sounded a little childish.

"Unconscious." Tony interjected, frowning. "I think you conveniently left that part out."

"That wasn't in the briefing, Tony." Steve said, slightly admonishing, though his eyes were shooting daggers at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Tony shrugged. "So what? They were withholding important information. It is fully in my rights, as a party of a legal contract, to obtain all information I can about the subject."

Director Fury finally snapped. Exploding, he slammed a fist on the table. "We did NOT survive this long on compassion. We see threats, we act to demolish them. We don't take chances. Compassion isn't going to help you in the long run of protecting Earth. You learn that in this trade. Would you choose to baby a potential criminal or to let someone blow this whole damned place up? Huh? This isn't about morals, it's about survival!"

Steve looked at war with himself. At last, he put his foot down. "Okay, we can deal with this later. What matters now is that we've got to find the boy. Do you have a name for him?"

"No." Agent Romanoff looked extremely displeased with her answer. "Not even a false identity. He was too fast. Use the code name George Doe. John Doe is getting old."

"Besides," Agent Barton added darkly. "That was the name of the agent he'd murdered in cold blood."

There were no further arguments about the innocence of the boy.

_**Line break**_

"Where _am_ I?" Fred thought, eyeing the icy landscape around him. The first place he'd had in his mind while apparating was the Burrow, but apparently his home really didn't exist in this world, and therefore winded up somewhere else. At least he didn't splinch, though.

Fred used an improvised version of the Bubble-Headed Charm and the Hot-Air Charm, which he'd renamed Warm-Bubble-Body-Charm-Invented-By-Fred-Weasley-AKA-Coolest-Guy-Ever. It was a little too long, so he shortened it to WBBCIBFWACG. Okay, he had to admit that even just the initials were a little too long, but really, it would be discrediting him by not inserting his name and cool in the spell.

Fred wandered alone in the cold and darkness. He couldn't feel the cold, thanks to the WBBCIBFWACG, but still, all these added to the lonely feeling that had been gnawing at his gut. Something felt missing.

That missing part was George.

For all their life, they had never been apart for more than a day. Even that day seemed like an eternity. He wondered how his twin brother was doing back in the other world. Come to think of it, was he still alive in the other world, or there was just a dead body? His family would be horrified. He hoped that George would be strong enough to cope with it. Or is anyone else dead? He hoped not. Did they win the war?

He dearly hoped that they did.

But at the moment, Fred was more concerned about his survival. _Then _he can think about his family. _And then _figure out who exactly it was that he was sent here to help. It must be someone really prominent, given that the…whatever they were…Nines maybe? Had paid special attention to him. He sorted through the information he currently had on this guy.

_Info on Mysterious Guy:_

_I feel like a stalker._

_Magic user like me. No wonder whatever organization that was tried to electrocute me. Gah, what happened to good old burning witches and wizards at the stake?_

_Greatly misunderstood. Oh-kay…_

_Put through things he shouldn't have to go through. Stuff enough to make a Nine sad. Gee, given that they are women who are probably really touchy feely, seeing how angry that brunette was at me in a second. Maybe he just lost a girlfriend or something._

_How the hell am I going to find him?!_

Fred sighed. "That narrows it down so much. Thanks, Nines." He loaded his voice with sarcasm. "That only makes like, what, half the population in this reality? Given how little I know about this place, you should just send a local like that scary Pirate Man."

No response.

_Well, at least the Nines had the thought to leave the wand in my possession._

Not that he needed a wand to kill.

Fred shivered at the thought. He remembered how the man had fallen at his feet, head sliced off neatly.

That was _him._ He'd killed.

An innocent man, probably just following orders or trying to protect himself, judging from the terrified look on his face.

And Fred had just killed him.

He might have a wife, maybe even children. They had just lost their pillar of support, their father. An uncle, a husband, a son. Just because Fred didn't understand what was going on and lashed out with accidental magic.

It's not like Fred hasn't seen death before, he'd seen plenty of it during the Battle of Hogwarts, just…not one caused by _him_.

Oh, heavens, what had he done? He might just as well go and surrender to whatever organization that was and let them do what they will with him.

Except that Fred didn't think that he, a murderer, would deserve the mercy of death.

Fred screamed into the howling wind, letting all his emotions out. Another wave of power crashed through him, and a snow rabbit dropped dead not more than five meters away.

Fred backed into a corner of his cave, trying his best to control the mysterious power that had grown inside him somehow, sobbing. This wasn't just accidental magic. He'd never heard of young witches or wizards accidentally killing people. Somehow, something else was interfering. Making Fred a monster.

He grabbed his wand with shaking hands, trying to decide whether to snap it. It was the channel for his magic, a part of him for all these years, but without it, trying to use magic without something to direct it properly might just result in more mayhem.

A tear dripped onto the wand and instantly froze there. Fred pocketed the wand again, cursing his weakness. One simple flick of his hand, and his magic would be no more. Just like that. The murderer's weapon would be gone. And yet he had killed without it.

Utterly worn and spent, Fred laughed. He laughed until tears rolled again, remembering exactly how he had ended up in this predicament. Percy had made a joke.

Prefect Percy had just made a joke with him. It had felt so long ago when they were all a complete family again.

"I need to complete this stupid task the Nines gave me." Fred said aloud, trying to sound more confident. "It shouldn't be any biggie, or else they would have sent Harry Potter himself. Then maybe I can go home."

Nothing but the wind answered him. But all of a sudden, he felt relieved again.

True, they might not accept him when they learned that he had blood on his hands. The Nines might not send him home.

But at least now he had a path to walk.


End file.
